


Wolfish Ways

by knewbetterboy



Series: all roads lead to you [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, House Targaryen problems, Jon is possessive, Royal Family issues, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22100989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knewbetterboy/pseuds/knewbetterboy
Summary: The Targaryens are perfectly made for each other, and the heir apparent of the House of the Dragon is determined to prove that.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Series: all roads lead to you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590781
Comments: 20
Kudos: 149





	Wolfish Ways

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year! Happy 2020! Let's make this decade worth the shot, shall we?
> 
> And one of those shots, is me returning to our favorite couple with a series of one-shots!
> 
> Enjoy <3

_The Dragons are playing their way into everything, aren't they? They both have candidates for a marriage for Dorne, and another for Winterfell..._

_The king and queen are already a match of a dragon and a wolf, why another? Is there some bad blood?_

_The Prince of Dragonstone is both dragon and wolf, you bloody idiot..._

_The rats of King's Landing squeak that the prince had been absent from the exclusive brothels for years. Can you believe, my lord? Does he aspire to follow Baelor's footsteps?_

_I was there at the feast! The princess barely spared a glance at Robb Stark. She looked almost bored, and was the first one to leave the table..._

_Wasn't there some diplomatic affairs arranged in Essos and the princess went there to represent the Iron Throne herself? My ears heard songs of her moaning underneath some Dothraki savage and a charming Tyroshi sellsword. My, my, my, I wish I would have her underneath me. I'd surrender all my lands and gold just to have the most beautiful woman in the world for one night..._

_Every single person in this court knows that the Targaryens are untouchables, except if the affairs are within their family..._

He hated all of it. But it stoked the fire in his ego and swelled his pride, it even made him crave for her even more. All of it made him more protective of her. He cannot lose her again. No one gets to touch and kiss her but _him._

Even behind the thick mosaic glass covered with a thick tapestry, Jon heard the hushed voices from the throne room. The gallery housed few courtiers today, and few attendants meant clearer voices that could be scarcely heard by his father who was sitting on the Iron Throne, currently holding court and managing the problems of Westeros, both the petty and the significant. Jon, however, had excused himself after a servant went into the throne room to whisper a request in his ear. The king did not inquire, but read the troubled look on his son's face. That farce had let him go and ushered him into the arms of the woman he loved.

This woman in particular started the day's lies by telling her brother that she cannot attend court because of her moon's blood.

That was why Jon was surprised when the servant led him into one of the small secret rooms just beside the gallery and in a matter of kisses his hand had frantically navigated its way underneath her skirts and now his fingers are pumping in and out of her hot cunt. Daenerys sucked his other set of fingers, both to heighten their pleasures and arousal and to silence herself. Jon leaned his back against the oak door, and the princess leaned her back against his chest, the two lovers locked in a torrid embrace.

"The court's gossip is making me angry, my love. Amusing in some way, but I dislike it," he whispered in her ear before biting it. Dany whimpered against his fingers, and she let them go, her mouth opened in a silent song of pleasure.

"I'd break that gallery glass right now for us to rejoin the court and fuck you right there in the middle of the room for all of Westeros to see that you are mine, and I am yours."

"Jon!" she gasped.

His fingers danced inside her in a synchronized rhythm, and his thumb pressing down on her clit hard enough for her to bite down her lower lip to keep herself from screaming his name. He knew she wants to, the way he wants to scream her name as well. He had memorized her from head to heel, the way her muscles tensed when she came, he knew every harmony of her moans and gasps, the very expression of her endearing violet eyes is imbued in his mind. So when he leaned down to kiss that spot on her neck that she likes so much, Dany’s walls clenched around his fingers and her sweet fluids ushered hurriedly onto his hand. She moaned, and was cut off by his hand clamping down on her mouth.

“Patience, love. Tonight when I visit you in your chambers we can be loud as we want. Can you promise me that?”

Daenerys pulled away from him when she was all undone, and grabbed his face for a searing kiss. Jon refused to open his mouth and welcome her tongue. Instead, he broke away and plunged his moistened fingers into her mouth.

“You must be naked and on your knees in front of the fireplace when I come to your chambers tonight.” he growled.

She smirked, the little minx with her signature smirk. _This woman will be the death of me._ Dany kissed him around his jawline, “I will obey you and gladly suck your cock,” she bit on his neck, then on his earlobe, before whispering, “if you come to my chambers naked as well.”

Then she effortlessly slid from his arms and she was gone from the small, clamped room. Jon tried to follow her, barely catching her wrist as she ran along the corridor with soft giggles, her silk skirts trailing behind her.

“Dany!”

“Your Grace?”

Jon turned, and saw Ser Barristan’s eyes following the princess’ shrinking figure. When she had turned to another hallway and was out of sight, Jon turned his attention back to the knight.

“Is my father done with the court’s proceedings for today?”

The knight nodded politely, “Aye, my prince. I was sent to look for you to inform you that His Grace has also called for a small council meeting to be held in a couple of hours, and to request for Princess Daenerys’ presence as well. Unless...if the princess still feels unwell.”

Jon smiled, “The princess needed me, and I have helped her remedies. We might come to the council chambers together later.”

Barristan the Bold’s face remained expressionless but still courteous. But in his mind, Jon knew that the old knight is one of the closest people to the royal family that was aware of the whole truth between Jon and Daenerys, despite both of them under the process of being betrothed to the heirs of two great houses of Westeros. The great knight is of course, also aware of the couple’s plan to revoke the possible bethrotals in their own ways. Ser Barristan bowed, and Jon nodded in response and walked the trail Dany had used to escape from him. _He lost her once, he will not lose her again._

Jon was only several months older than Daenerys, and they grew up together. They played together, they attended their maester’s classes together, she had watched him train sword and shield in the yard and he had watched her dance and listened to her sing. She was the greatest friend he had ever known, almost like a sister. But they were Targaryens, and it has always been running in their veins. Rather, she was the only girl he can ever see. That belief sealed in his mind and heart, when Daenerys, the sweet and affectionate princess that she is, kissed him on his fifteenth name day as her gift to him.

It made no matter that she was his aunt and he was her nephew, but in that moment Jon knew they were destined to be lovers and get married be the future king and queen of Westeros.

And why not? House Targaryen has been doing it for centuries, the Old Valyrian way. Jon found it ludicrous and disgusting when he was younger. But he had seen Daenerys grow into a woman, and he had wanted no one but her since then, the only woman who has the right to break his heart for a thousand times if she wanted to.

_“Did you miss me?” she asked him the night they made love for the first time._

_She had just recently arrived back home in King’s Landing after representing Westeros for some negotiations in the east. She was gone for almost a year, and Jon was filled with raging hatred and jealousy when he heard a story of her meeting a handsome Qartheen prince._

_“After you have shunned me for years when you kissed me? How can I not miss you, Dany?”_

_“I thought you hated our family tradition. And to remind you, you were more eager for that kiss.”_

He did enjoy their first kiss, but after that he had seen her as the closest relative to him. She returned her rage to him, and he found out how wrong he was when her suitors began to buzz like flies into the throne room to ask for her hand in marriage. They were looking at her, but they were _kneeling_ for the throne.

Jon thought that ambiguous conflict of theirs had faded through the years and things went back to normal, that was until she had left for Essos. He realized the time that was wasted when they ignored each other and he went to entertain ladies both highborn and whore, believing that Dany will remain as a mere family to him, and she probably have found someone else. But in the end he felt lonely and preferred solitude for a long period of time, _no one and nothing can compensate for Dany’s absence._

On the corridor to Dany’s chambers, the guards at post froze and bowed to the prince. Surely she must have rushed back to her quarters to resume her farce of being ill, otherwise she would be in the gardens, the library, or in his own chambers. At three knocks on the thick oak door, Jon grinned at the sound of Dany’s voice from behind the heavy wooden door inviting him inside.

Daenerys was sitting on the edge of her bed wrapped in a silk robe, and her closest handmaid and friend, Missandei, was braiding her hair. Dany’s two other handmaids looked at him in shock before proceeding to clumsy bows, and looked back at the princess’ direction, as if waiting for a command to exile them to the deepest bowels of the earth.

“Too soon?” Dany asked innocently.

“May I have a private word with you, Your Grace?”

The princess quirked her brow inquisitively, and gave him that calculating look. “You can sit on the chaise, my prince. Let me get dressed first.”

She ignored the worried looks on her handmaids’ faces as Dany suddenly stood up and untied the belt of her robe, letting the flimsy fabric fall from her shoulders and pool around her feet. Jon stood immobile for a moment, then walked to the nearest armchair to sit down without peeling his eyes from her own violet eyes. He fought down the urge to study the rest of her sculpted body. 

When she was done dressing, she ordered her handmaids out of the room and walked towards Jon with an irresistible sway in her hips. An arm’s length, Jon reached out and pulled her by the waist onto his lap. Dany half giggled and half yelped, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You’ll ruin my dress!”

“Aye, I’ll have you a dozen more made for you.” he grunted, nipping at her favorite spot on her neck.

“I know you came here for another reason.”

Jon stiffened, and his shoulders fell. Dany moved closer to him, frowning at his sudden recoil.

“Father wants us in the council in an hour.”

“Then why do you look so sad about a council meeting?”

He looked up at her, and he saw the same princess who was full of fear that he had reunited with a couple of years ago.

“Because I want to marry you, Dany.”

* * *

**_Three years ago - The Rebellion Beyond the Wall_ **

It has been three moons.

Daenerys counted every single day with impending dread. The last time she had heard from Jon was from a rider that arrived over a moon’s turn ago. The prince had given her promises of coming back home from the siege, but they cannot write letters to each other in case the ravens would be intercepted by a hostile company. It broke her heart, not knowing her love’s current state. Even though he was surrounded and guarded by the best of her brother’s soldiers, even though Jon Snow is one of the best swordsmen in Westeros, it has put everything to a deadly risk.

For three moons Daenerys had been in charge of the proceedings and problems in the capital and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. To Viserys’ chagrin, Rhaegar had sent their other brother away to deal with matters in the Oldtown instead of joining the royal army in the North. Viserys will not stand the cold, as it seems.

“You’re the only person I could trust here, little sister.” Rhaegar told her three nights before they left for the Wall.

Dany was looking impassively at her brother, failing to hide the fury in her eyes. “What about Jon? Don’t you trust your own son?”

“I do, that’s why he’s coming with me.”

“You are the king and you’re bringing your only heir with you to a death sentence! What would be left of the Seven Kingdoms?” she retorted.

Rhaegar sighed, his shoulders falling in a frustrated gesture. Dany swallowed the lump in her throat, tears stinging the corner of her eyes. Her brother walked slowly towards her, as if afraid that she might blow up anytime. _Rhaegar is the least Targaryen in our family._ He was so kind, patient, and warm. And Dany felt guilty for being cold around him since finding out that Jon will be joining the siege.

“Can I at least embrace my little sister? For an apology?” he said softly.

Dany looked away. For a moment, they stayed silent. Then she closed the distance between them, letting herself be comforted by her brother’s strong arms, her cries and tears that she had been holding for the last several days muffled through against his chest.

“I know this isn’t the first time you and Jon are going to be separated, and it won’t be the last,” he leaned back to look at her, his thumbs brushing away the tears on her cheeks.

“It’s not like I don’t trust the both of you for leading an army. But I...Rhae, you and Jon are both leaving me at the same time.”

“You won’t be alone. Tyrion is still present as my Hand, but you’re a _Targaryen._ Among my small council, Viserys, or even Jon, you are the most capable to rule.”

He pulled her to another tight embrace again, resting his cheek on the crown of her head.

“Jon has a talent for warfare, and you have a charming gift for politics.”

“Both inherited from you?” she said.

Rhaegar smiled, brushing his nose against her silver locks affectionately. “The two of you are the future of our House and Westeros.”

And so Dany ruled in behalf of the absence of her brother. She counted the days, the petitioners, the stars outside her window when she twisted and turned in her bed at night. Longing for the warmth she has grown used to since she was a child. She and Jon had grown up together, only several months of age as a gap between them. He was her nephew, yes. But he was more than that. He was her best friend, soulmate, brother, lover, her other half. 

_Jon Snow._ He might be a Targaryen, but he earned his additional title after he secretly entered the lists on a melee during a feast held in the capital. The crowd gasped at the mysterious knight when he rode his stallion that day. He had worn a shining jet black armor from head to toe, his breastplate and dark shield blank with any sigil. All black, except for his snow white cloak. The dark knight unhorsed all contestants, winning the privilege to crown the Queen of Love and Beauty. He swung down his horse in front of Princess Daenerys, took off his helm, shook out his pretty dark curls Dany loved so much. Jon Snow climbed the steps to the dais and placed the winter roses crown on her head, and kissed her passionately.

That’s when the Seven Kingdoms earned a new subject of their drunken conversations.

“ _Snow._ It’s not a bastard name for me, Dany. It reminded me of your beautiful hair when I visited the North for the first time.” he explained it to her when she asked him about his striking entrance, and what he thought about the crowd now calling him _Jon Snow._

The next time he went to the North, she was full of dread and fear. And even on the night that she heard heavy hooves of horses and the gates opening, Dany knew it was time. She slipped into her thin robe and slippers, commanding her guards outside her chambers that she will not need any escorts. As she descended the stairs leading to the main yard of the Red Keep, she heard a single angry voice barking a series of commands. Or perhaps, it sounded like he was reprimanding the men around him. 

Dany looked around through a stone pillar, the guards and servants not noticing her presence, all either frozen or trembling in fear from the man standing on the center. But she was not. She knew this man very well.

Jon turned and locked eyes with her, his anger instantly leaving his face at once.

“I will retire for the night.” he said still looking at her, handing out his cloak to no one in particular, and the nearest squire approached to retrieve it from his hand with a bow.

He approached her direction with a brisk walk, and somehow Dany found her feet moving towards him, the people nearby only realizing the presence of the princess. Her petite form was pulled into a strong embrace, and she fought down the tears. _A dragon does not weep._ But the scent of him, it reminded her of everything. Jon Snow smelled like fire, ash, steel, bath oils, and Jon. She missed Jon.

“You’ve waited so long. I’m sorry, Dany. I’m sorry.” he said into her hair, sniffing her lavender, bathing oils, lemon, and _Daenerys,_ every little scent that woke his spirits and drove his senses into madness.

She pulled away to look at him, and he saw how happy he is. But he looked so tired. Oblivious to their surroundings, the servants and guards started to disperse into the castle, with furtive glances thrown at the tangled prince and princess. Without any words, Dany took his hand and led him to her own chambers. With a firm command to her handmaidens, a bath was drawn for him, and she let him linger in his bath and waited patiently on the bed. When Jon emerged from the other room clad in a new pair of trousers and shirtless, he looked at her sadly.

“Please Dany, say somethin’ to me. Are you upset about the letters?”

He approached the bed and sat on the edge, tentatively reaching out before taking her hand in his. Their fingers interlaced together immediately. She scooted closer to him, settling herself comfortably on his lap as though she was a pearl fitting perfectly in its shell. Her fingers traced the scars on his face, fingernails gently scratching his beard. Jon closed his eyes and leaned into her hand.

“I’ve waited so long for you.” he whispered.

“Me either.”

“Would you mind if I make love to you right now to make up for our missed letters?”

She giggled, rubbing their noses together. “There’s nothing to apologize, my love. And you are tired, you should get some rest.”

Lips barely touching, he managed to make a verbal response, “You’ve just woken the beast inside me.” 

How can she deny him?

* * *

**_Present day - The 21st Name Day of Daenerys Targaryen_ **

The Iron Throne was vacated for tonight, in order for the whole royal family to gather altogether on the dais set just below the steps of the throne. Dany sat on the other side of Rhaegar, feigning her brilliant smile that she was very familiar with. The muscles on her cheeks seem to stretch out like rubber, and even though she was tired of the endless greetings and courtesies, the natural demeanor of a princess was imbued within her inside and out.

Internally though, tonight was different.

More than a dozen lords have already strutted forward to give her their name day greetings and lavish gifts. More than a dozen lips have already kissed her knuckles, most of them lingering a little while longer than it should. 

Lord Walder Frey, for instance, the fifth Walder in House Frey (or just “another” Walder lad from their family, Dany have lost count), looked at her with such exaggerated interest and spoke a figurative statement in every sentence he uttered. He smelled strongly of perfumed berries mixed with wine, and Dany fought the inclination of her nose from crinkling out of discomfort.

“My princess, you look even more stunning than ever. My people back in the Twins nicknamed me the bright _Sun_ for my gorgeous smile, would you like to have the honor to be my moon?” he cooed.

_I’d rather have the honor to give you a proper bath._

“That is quite a flattering offer, my lord.” she replied politely.

“I have flattering offer for you as well, Lord Walder. I wish for you to accept it.” said a cold voice behind them.

Jon Snow came late to the feast, and that delay didn’t do too much for his appearance. _He doesn’t need to. I’m already all his._ He had his usual dark gambeson and trousers, with an additional black cape trimmed with red and silver flecks on its edges, and a wolf brooch to hold it together on his chest. His hair was tied in a neat bun behind his head, the scars on his face daring and intimidating in the throne room’s faint candlelights.

He closed the distance between them to stand behind their seats, and placed a wary hand on the chair of Walder Frey.

“I was thinking of inviting you to a sparring tomorrow morning, my lord. All the other young lords across Westeros who are present tonight are also coming, of course. It would be just a simple tournament. Not too formal.”

Lord Walder cleared his throat. “Not much of rewards and titles?”

“I told you it’s not a formal tourney. Would you like to have horses included? I hear you have a vast expanse to ride near the Twins.” Jon offered him a small smile.

“Yes, yes. Well, I thank you for the invitation Your Grace,” he stood up abruptly, almost smashing his dinner plate. “I’m afraid my cousins would be looking for me. Princess Daenerys, it’s a pleasure to meet you personally.”

Dany nodded with a gracious smile, and turned her attention back to the mass interaction of the whole of Westeros before her. Jon took the recently vacant seat beside her, and took her hand under the table.

“I miss you, Daenerys.” he said under his breath.

Dany let go of his hand and reached for her wine, her cheeks flushed from her sudden extraction. She was angry and sad at the same time, and all she ever wants to do is to fly away towards east.

“You would really use that as your counter?” she replied coldly.

Three days ago, Jon stormed out of the council chamber after a heated argument with Rhaegar, and proceeded to ignore Dany for the following days until tonight. The meeting was a rotunda of discussions about Dany’s possible suitors for her name day feast, and, out of his temper, ended up arguing with his father about the same matter; no man is suitable for Daenerys, _but him._

Dany turned to look at him. He seemed to be unaffected with her cold response. Even the sadness hidden behind her features and the anger evident in her purple eyes, Jon still found his Daenerys utterly entrancing. Though frankly, he preferred her to be absent of glittering jewels that he found ostentatious, her hair loose from her signature braids, and naked from her opulent gowns. He’d rather have her bare and comfortable in his arms, not stiff and smiling forcefully at people that they only knew by titles and lands, not by heart.

“Father told me to give you space for awhile and think about the possibilities of the marriage. And I as well. But there are no other options for me, Dany. There is only you.”

“Then why do you have to avert your attention from me? Look, you even arrived to the feast delayed. I was afraid you have forgotten about my name day out of your brooding pride.”

“How can I forget your name day when all I think about is you?”

Before Dany could slap his pretty face or kiss his lips, the main doors from the kitchens bursted open streaming with an army of servants bearing new batches of plates and flagons of wine. Dany had lost her appetite from the string of courters and the arrival of Jon, that she could no longer try the fifth course. Just as the first portion of the lamb was to be served for her, Jon stood up abruptly and walked to the center of the dais. He was holding his own cup of wine, and he chimed it repeatedly with his fork. The throne room gradually fell silent, every person perked up to listen to the crown prince.

“My lords and ladies of the court, and our friends from the east, I greet you all a pleasant evening,” the room buzzed in an affirmative response, acknowledging the prince. “In behalf of House Targaryen, and my dear Princess Daenerys, I thank you for coming to the feast to celebrate her twenty-first name day.”

He looked around the room with a wide smile on his face, and when his eyes landed on Dany, he looked apprehensive. Rhaegar was looking at Jon with a smile, but rather curiously.

Jon continued, placing his hand calmly on the pommel of his sword. “On this special night, Princess Daenerys and I would like to announce to Westeros of our betrothal to each other.”

Dany’s chest constricted to a very tight knot. The room erupted into a cheerful noise, as though these nosy lords and ladies are surprised with the couple. Rhaegar sat on his seat rigid, but joined the applause with slow claps of his hand. _He could be the only surprised person in this room even though he already knows some things._

Jon Snow strode back to Daenerys and took her hand. After a series of accepting congratulations and shaking hands with the noblest people this known world could produce, Dany was soon separated from Jon and went back to her chambers all alone, where her most loyal handmaid, Missandei, was waiting to assist her for her nightly routine.

 _Damn him._ She thought. _Men are such a fucking disgrace to the world they are all smitten and stupid all over you and then suddenly do something stupid like defying their king or parent and now this one might spark a war between my family members my brother and my stupid nephew are fighting over arranged marriages. What a stupid way to announce an engagement. Our families have just started discussing the possible marriage into our House, aren’t they? Surely Winterfell and Dorne won’t be that surprised for all the lifeless energy I have mustered towards Robb Stark he can’t be as dumb as his cousin to not notice that I don’t really like him. Because I like Jon, and I love him very much. Oh seven hells, I am deeply in love with a stupid, infuriating man._

Dressed in her silk robe, Dany went out of her balcony and watched the carriages and horses leaving the yard of the Red Keep. A soft knock came on her door, and she bid the visitor a permission. Jon Snow walked into her room still clad in his gambeson from the feast, but void of the cape and sworbelt.

“Lock the door and join me here.” she said nonchalantly.

When he did as he was told, a piercing silence stretched between them. Jon minded of keeping a fair distance from Daenerys, wary of her snub permission in his entry to her chambers. For what felt like hours, only the cold and whisper of the wind and the faint commotion a hundred feet below served as the only noise to distract their awkwardness, until Dany broke it.

“I don’t understand why you did that, it was not wise to make an announcement like that.” she said, knowing Jon genuinely enough that she already knew what he would reply.

“Are you telling me that you don’t want to marry me?” he said quietly.

A small chuckle came out of her, and she finally looked at him. “Jon, I love you. I know our marriages to Winterfell and Dorne are still not yet finalized respectively, but you have to take my brother’s decision into account.”

Jon sighed, “We have put his decisions and reasons into account since the very beginning, but we have a stronger end,”

He scooted closer and took her hands in his, “We are Targaryens, are we not? The only way to keep our House strong and firm is to keep our bloodline within our family. And gods take me to their seven hells if I won’t marry you, Dany. I love you more than anything.”

They were so close to each other that Dany could smell everything from him. The wine, iron, sweat, the herbal soap that he uses for bath, the masculine and ash mixed in his clothes that she loves to bury her face in. Jon was leaning in for a kiss, and Dany had memorized all his ministrations that she had the reflex to move away from him and push his chest.

“You haven’t even personally asked me if I want to marry you, and you have already arranged it for Westeros but me!” she half sneered, and pursed her lips to hide her smile.

“Oh, darling. Forgive me,” Jon bent down on one knee, still holding her hands, “Daenerys, you are my everything and the dearest love of my life. I want to spend the rest of my days with you, and even in the after life, I will wait for you. I desire the honor of being your husband, if you’ll have me.”

Dany nodded furiously, forgetting that she was supposed to give him at least a verbal response to spare them both some confusion. She tugged on his hands and he stood, and she was the first to lean in and kiss him with all the love she could muster.

“Yes, a thousand times, yes.” she whispered against his lips.

_As though she had the reason to deny him._

For three days of guilt and absence of each other, it felt like a lifetime. Even worse when Dany was exploring Essos for years. As they retired back to her chambers and collapsed on her featherbed, Dany’s touches were almost burning to the skin, like the true fire she is. He would very much choose to burn in her fire forever.

As they shredded their clothes and once Dany sunk down onto his cock, Jon watched her as his _wife,_ wet and willing for him. She planted her palms on his sculpted chest for leverage, and soon her nails scratched and marked him from their shared pleasure. Jon met the ruthless rhythm of her hips, and at the same time he gripped onto her arse like his life depended on it. 

Sure, some of the guests from the feast may have remained late in the night, and some of them may be too far away from home and was granted the hospitality to stay in the Red Keep. Sure enough, some of them will hear the obscene sounds coming from the private quarters of the princess. And most of the royal guardsmen within the keep are accustomed to the absence of the prince from his own quarters.

Jon relished at the thought of these things. He found himself happy that Dany was enjoying herself as she rode him hard and fast and screamed his name like a litany. He dreamed of taking care of her behind the closed doors of the throne room, to take care of her whenever she falls sick, to have the cooks in the kitchen prepare her favorite delicacies once in a week, or at least try to cook it himself. He wanted to send her handmaids away to braid her hair himself, which he did one occasion and Dany giggled at the result, and she went down to dinner parading his own version of her braids.

Dany quivered and whimpered above him, she was barely moving her hips because of the ethereal pleasure. In the end, Jon was the one to keep them both alive. He flipped them over and fucked her to her blowing orgasm, she tugged both of her hands on his wild curls as his cunt tightened around his cock and he spurted his seed within her hot channel. He barely gave her time to chase her normal breathing as he kissed his way down her body and dove between her legs, tasting both of their blended passions.

When Dany came down from her last climax of the night, Jon held her until they both calmed down. He stood up to retrieve his clothes on the floor, only to be stopped by her hand around his wrist.

“Stay with me,” she said as a firm statement. Not pleading, not asking, but because it was meant to be that way.

 _What else can he do?_ And so Jon stayed holding his princess all night, knowing that she is his future wife. And that alone was the best reward he could ever ask for.

* * *

Jon woke before the first break of dawn, with deeply asleep Daenerys in his arms. Carefully, Jon untangled himself from her and pressed a light kiss on her temple. He retrieved his trousers and tunic from the floor, and quietly slipped from the room, and walked down to the kitchens. 

Thankfully, few of the oldest cooks who have been serving House Targaryen for decades are finally awake to prepare breakfast. The servants were shocked to find him in the kitchens awake at this hour and was filling a plate of breakfast himself.

“Ah, would you like me to offer you another plate, Your Grace? I’m afraid the amount of food is too much for a single plate.” one servant offered tentatively.

“Yes, of course. Thank you.”

“And some ale to wash it down?”

Jon nodded. “A cup for me. Brew the princess’ favorite morning tea as well.”

The servants gave him a confounded look, before Agnes, the head cook, ushered them to prepare the prince’s requests. Less than half an hour later, he was walking back to Dany’s chambers balancing a tray of breakfast in both of his hands. Upon reaching her corridor, the door swung open to reveal a fully dressed and properly groomed Rhaegar Targaryen. Rhaegar gave him his usual bright smile, a sort of a signature greeting.

“Father,” Jon nodded.

Rhaegar eyed the tray in his hands. “She’s in a good mood today, go feed her now before she gets upset. She almost threw a magnificent Braavosi vase at me when she found me at her door, thinking I sent you to one of Maegor’s cells.”

Rhaegar offered to open the door for him, “Council meeting at afternoon, Jon. There’s a wedding to plan ahead.” Once the knob turned, the king walked away and Jon slightly kicked the door open and went in.

Daenerys was already wearing her silk robe, sprawled like a goddess on the bed. Her face lit up when Jon appeared in sight, and greedily eyed the tray in his hands.

“I met father on the way. What did he tell you?” 

Dany stretched out her arms lazily, and yawned. “Hmm, I’m starving. Join me in bed?”

That was enough to stoke the fire inside him, and to wake his wolf.


End file.
